Drunken Love
by indecisive-scribophile
Summary: Steven Stone: the man who put up with Valerie Ferreira's – his, by the way, best friend and romantic interest – incessant, drunk rambling after getting hammered one night at a bar in Slateport. With Valerie drunk on beer and Steven drunk on love, Steven answers Valerie's one important, alcohol-driven question: "What would it take to get you to love me?"


**_DISCLAIMER: All characters mentioned in this story do NOT belong to me except for Valerie Ferreira. Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Taijiri. All rights reserved._**

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"Stevennnn, what would it take?"

Steve stole a quick glance at the drunken girl beside him in the passenger's seat of his car. She was slumped against the car door, her hot, alcohol-tainted breath fogging up the cold glass window as she breathed her slow breaths. Just from the dim light provided by the passing streetlamps, Steven could see that the girl's usually relatively pale skin was flushed a rosy red – a magenta, even – and reminded him very much of the glow of a Fire Stone.

It had only been five or so minutes since she'd woken up after Steven had helped Valerie into his car, Valerie having had one too many drinks at a bar in Slateport. Despite her short time awake after her thirty-minute nap, she was already asking him questions too deranged her sober self would struggle to even dare to ask. A part of Steven regretted offering – and by 'offering', he really meant 'being forced' – to be the travel-obsessed girl's designated driver for the night; however, another part of him said, "No, this is the right thing to do," for she didn't have anyone else to listen to her, let alone drive her back to her apartment at three in morning.

"Pardon, Valerie?"

"I said, Stevennn, what would it t-take?"

Steven sighed half-exasperatedly, half-amusedly. "To?"

"To get youuu…to love meeee…"

It was funny. For a split second, Steven almost forgot that Valerie was off her rocker, completely hammered because of the too many mugs of beer she'd drank. He almost let his heart stop when he heard the 'l' word spill out of her mouth, realising the context concerned him. He almost let himself give into the question, almost pulling the car over and kissing her right then and there. Alas, he didn't, for that would be a poor choice and would be considered taking advantage of the inebriated girl. Thankfully, he got a hold of himself faster than you could say 'quick attack' and composed himself.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Steven said to remind himself more so than her. "You're drunk."

"But Steveeeen…" This time, she dragged out the vowels of his name more than the consonants. The two words were barely decipherable as two, her speech slurring together. "I'm not druuuunk…this is the truuuth…"

As Valerie continued – and attempted – to protest against her drunkenness, Steven chuckled, cocking his head to the side ever-so-slightly. He kept his eyes on the – save for his own car – desolate road ahead of him.

"I'm quite sure it is," he said in a faux convincing tone.

"W-Why aren't you takinnnng me seriouslyyy?" Valerie dragged on after a short pause, supposedly to think. "I t-told you, thissss' the truth. One hundrededed percent…"

"I told you—because you're drunk."

"F-Fine! But if I'm druuunk, then why won't you answerrr m-me?" She hiccupped, giggling loudly afterwards.

Steven rolled his eyes. "Because you won't remember any of this tomorrow, anyways." He wouldn't let a drunken girl outsmart him; he simply wouldn't.

"Then w-what'ssstoping you from telling me if I won't remember anything, huuuuuh?"

Steven grumbled. She was smart even when drunk—that said quite a lot about her, really.

"Valerie, please just go back to sleep. We're nearly there."

"Don't avoid the q-q-question, silly…" The magenta-head was persistent, and it was clear that she wasn't planning to give up on him any time soon. Steven reminded himself that it would only be ten or so minutes and then he could stop anxiously dodging her questions driven by the alcohol in her system.

When he remained silent, Valerie groaned after hiccupping once more. "Whaaadya doing? You're meanttto say, "Noooo, Vale…Vale…Valentine? That it?"

"Valerie," Steven winced. That was another thing he hoped she would forget in the morning.

"Yeah, that's it! You're s'pposed be like…"Valerieee…go to sleep, you spoon…" What's wrong with youuu?"

Steven scoffed, sucking his teeth. "I don't sound like that."

' _At least,_ ' he thought grimly, ' _I hope not._ '

"Stevennnn…"

"Valerie, _please_ just go back to sleep."

"Stevennn!"

"Valerie."

"Steeeeveeeeen!"

"Valerie."

"Steee—"

" _Alright_ , fine," Steven said at last, slightly irritated. "If I tell you, will you go back to sleep?"

Valerie, finally satisfied, sluggishly lifted her hand to her forehead, giggling cutely. "Aye aye, Captain Stern!"

"Steven."

"Steven!" Valerie corrected herself, slothfully saluting as best she could with her Slakoth-like movements.

Steven let out a slow, heavy sigh. What did he have to lose, anyway? Like they both said, she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. And, besides, it's not like she'd take any of it seriously even if she did.

"You know what it would take, Valerie?" he chuckled, gripping the steering wheel tight. Odd, since he only did that when he was nervous—which he wasn't. "You know what it would take?"

"What, Captainnn?"

"It wouldn't take anything." He glanced over at her with his celeste eyes, smiling sombrely. "Because, you know, Valerie, I already do."

Valerie hiccupped again. "Already what?" Her voice sounded confused, but Steven honestly couldn't tell if it was her drunken or (albeit almost non-existent) sober self talking.

"You know."

"Noooo, I don't know." She giggled, slapping her cheeks with her palms. "That's a funny sentenceee…No, don't know, no, no, nooo…"

Steven turned right, and Valerie slumped over the gear stick and cup holders. Finally, he pulled up in the Mauville carpark, somehow pushing past her side to park the car. When it was safe, he stared at Valerie in disbelief.

"Are you joking?"

"Jokinggg…"

"Yes, joking. Are you?"

"Maybe…maybe not…I don't knowww…or maybe I-I dooo…"

Steven suppressed his exhausted laughter and pulled the key out of the ignition, stepping outside to open Valerie's door. When he did, she almost fell out of the car because she was so relaxed and drunk.

"Thaaaanks, Stevennn…you're my herooo…"

He unclipped Valerie's seatbelt and carefully untangled both her hair and limbs from it, afterwards sliding his arms under her back, shoulders, and knees, groaning at the sudden strain on his arms. As he carried her bridal-style to the entrance of Mauville Hills, he chuckled to himself and mumbled, "And you're a drunk princess."

Steven passed by one of Valerie's triathlete friends, and, whilst laughing, he swiped his key card into the elevator to let him in, for there was _no way_ Steven was going to slide his hand into her jeans' back pocket to retrieve hers.

"Take care of our little biker girl for us," he teased as Steven nodded in gratitude, his cheeks dusted in a light pink.

Carrying the drunken girl in his arms, Steven let his mind wander for a split second. He wondered if there would ever be a day when he'll be dressed in all black and she in all white, the two of them kissing with all their might whilst her arms are wrapped around his neck instead of dangling by his sides. He wondered if there would ever be a day when there would be rings on the both of their fingers, a promise and a set of cheesy vows forever connecting their souls and hearts 'till death do them apart.

Despite carrying another human in his arms, Steven reached Valerie's apartment in no time flat. He typed in the number passcode to her apartment – albeit a few times and with his nose; he couldn't risk dropping the girl he cared so much about on the floor right outside her apartment – and pushed the door open.

He made their way to her bedroom and, with utmost care, laid her head down on her Swanna feather-stuffed pillows and Mareep-fleece blanket, both dyed the same shade of ash-black. Barely half-awake, Valerie waved her arms from side to side in the air, smiling a stupid smile. Now under the yellow light of her bedroom, Steven noticed just how red her cheeks were. She'd _definitely_ had way too many beers—he'd watched her chug down one after the other…because he was the one who'd paid for them.

"Valerie, I'm going to take your shoes off," Steven said. Valerie said nothing, nodding slowly as he did so.

"Aaaaand my pants?"

Steven coughed, then cleared his throat. He knew her silence was way too good to be true. He looked up at Valerie from the foot of the bed, and he noticed the sly smirk plastered on her lips.

"Maybe another time," he mumbled.

Somehow, Steven was able to tuck Valerie's sluggish body under her black blanket. To this day, he still didn't understand as to how she tolerated sleeping under it, especially since she tended to leave the heater on all day. Plus, Hoenn was always unpredictably hot, and black material as dark and heavy as her blanket absorbed the most heat out of all other wavelengths of light, so he gathered that it was probably like a sauna between her mattress and blanket.

As he rose to put Valerie's shoes beside her bed, Steven noticed that her eyes were now closed, and her long eyelashes casted even longer shadows on her sleek cheekbones. Steven couldn't help himself as his hand drifted to her forehead and brushed her tangled, magenta fringe out of her face. He couldn't help himself as he bent down, his face drawing closer and closer to hers.

And he couldn't help himself as his lips came into contact with her cheek, kissing it with a soft smack of his lips.

His cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, and the back of his neck suddenly became uncomfortably tingly. But he didn't mind—it was okay. It was all okay.

Steven stood up straight and smiled at the drowsy, drunken girl he called his best friend.

"Stevennn…" Valerie stirred.

"Yes?"

"I l-love youuu…"

"I love you, too."

And, with that, Steven flicked off Valerie's light, closing her bedroom door. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed on her couch, sleep instantly enveloping him as he let himself become drunk at the hands of his love for Valerie.

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 _ **Author's Note:** Hi! I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you for doing so! This was my first time writing an OC X Canon fic, so I hope this sets a little bit of a standard for my stories. Valerie is one of the protagonists for a (long) series I'm currently in the planning stage with these two, and this may or may not (honestly, I haven't decided yet) be a part of it. Alas, please stick around for that series, for I'm working really hard on it!_


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